


I am not what I am

by Moomo



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-07-24 05:29:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7495710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moomo/pseuds/Moomo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The faceless are nothing compared to the monsters that lurk under the skins of men, this Camilla knows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I am not what I am

Father hasn’t been the same since Queen Arete died. Where his children use to clamor for his attention and affection, they now shy away when they hear the sounds of his footsteps echoing in the halls. Camilla, entering her teen years but still very much a child, is scared by the new developments in castle Krakenburg Queen Arete and her own mother’s death, Father’s worsening mood, and the newest advisor that had recently wormed his way by King’s Garon’s right hand. Iago is creepy and sinister man. Whenever he enters the room, Camilla feels a cold shiver of fear creep down her spine. When he was introduced to all the children, he had grabbed Camilla’s hand, pressed a kiss onto the back of it, and given her a smile that made her feel like snakes were crawling over her skin.

 

“A Princess Camilla-” Camilla whirls around and comes face to face with Iago. “-what are you up to?”

 

“Nothing at all,” Camilla answers, backing away from Iago. She scans the hallway quickly, empty. A knot of dread and anxiety forms deep in her gut. Iago moves to stand beside her.

 

“Just walking then?”

 

Camilla nods, trying to move away. Iago simply walks up beside her again.

 

“Well, I’ll walk with you then. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to our lovely princess, now would I?”

 

Iago smiles, all teeth and no warmth behind it. Camilla has to force herself not to run away as Iago walks beside her. After a tense minute of walking, Iago places a hand on Camilla’s shoulder, and she barely manages not to jerk away; that would be rude she thinks, and a Princess is never rude (especially not to father’s new favourite). Anyways, Camilla rationalizes, Iago is just being friendly, trying to endear himself to her so she’ll put in a good word with father.

 

Camilla has almost convinced herself back of Iago’s intentions when his hand slithers from her shoulder to the back of her neck. His hand is cold on the bare skin of Camilla’s nape, and her insides ice over. Every nerve in the princess’s body is screaming for her to run, to flee, but she is frozen in her body, mechanically walking like a puppet.

 

Thankfully Xander walks into the picture and Iago moves away.

 

“Ah, Prince Xander, how pleasant it is to see you,” Iago offers, that horribly rictus spreading across his face again.

 

“Iago,” Xander returns before turning his attention to Camilla. “Come sister, it is almost time for our etiquette lessons.”  

 

For the first time in her life, Camilla jumps at the thought of her dreary old governess, anything to escape Iago. As she follow’s Xander away, walk brisker than normal, Camilla swears she can feel Iago’s eyes on her. Shivering, Camilla wants to say something to Xander, father, anyone, but what would she say? They would just tell her to stop being foolish, stop being a child. Iago was creepy, sure, but he hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary right?

 

~

 

Camilla loves little Elise. The nursery has been a retreat for her lately, her little sister is a welcome respite from father’s growing moodiness, the constant lessons and pressures of being a princess, and the strange new oppressive atmosphere in the castle.

 

The nanny, Cassita, is taking her lunch giving Camilla time alone with little Elise. Camilla smiles and coos at the sleeping babe in her arms. She rocks Elise back and forth, but that grows uncomfortable quickly thanks to the new corset she has been forced into by her tutors.

 

There is a strangeness to Camilla’s body that she is unused to. There is a new heaviness to her chest recently, a stark contrast to Xander and Leo. In the past, Camilla had seen no difference in the bodies of herself and her brothers; father never made her wear dresses like mother had, instead laughing as she tussled in the dirt with her brothers in pants and a shirt. But recently, Camilla had noticed her hips widening, chest becoming fuller, subtle curves forming, a stark contrast to Xander and Leo who remained stick straight. Earlier this very week, her governess had pulled her aside, forced her into a pinching corset, telling her that her body was becoming that of a woman, that it was getting ready to bear children, that this was something to be celebrated.

 

Camilla hates it. She hates the corset, the new curves forming, hates her own body betraying her. That morning as Camilla looked in the mirror while her servants dressed her, she observed the new shape her body was taking. Then the corset came on, and they tugged her so tight and uncomfortable. Camilla saw in the mirror how that damnable piece of clothing exaggerated the new and unwelcome changes; it pushed up her budding chest while cinching her waist, creating miniature version of the same figure that all the ladies of the court had. Camilla has never felt more alien in her own skin before.

 

Sighing, the princess turns her attention back to her little sister. But then the door clicks open, and it is not Cassita like Camilla thought it would be. Instead, in the doorframe stands Iago. Camilla has successfully avoided Iago over the past few months since his appointment and that terrible walk together in the halls, but now it appears that he has finally caught her again.

 

“Ah, bonding with your little sister I see,” Iago states. He enters the nursery and closes the door behind him. The click as the door shuts echoes and gooseflesh erupts over Camilla’s skin. As Iago moves closer, Camilla clutches Elise tighter to her, turning her body as if to shield her baby sister from the threat that is Iago (but he’s not a threat, Camilla reminds herself. He’s father’s most trusted advisor).

 

“And how is the littlest princess of Nohr?” Iago coos as he leans over Camilla in order to look down at Elise.

 

You stay away from my sister, you creep Camilla wants to scream. But instead she freezes, and Iago moves his head down, mouth hovering over Camilla’s ear. Iago’s breath on her skin causes Camilla to freeze, discomfort and fear a potent tranquilizer.

 

“I notice you’ve taken some new wardrobe choices lately,” Iago whispers into Camilla’s ear as he runs a hand over her waist, settling it on her hip. “They suit you well. You’re growing up nicely, beautiful.”

 

Camilla wants to run away screaming, but she cannot will herself to move. It feels like she is trapped, her own body a prison. Camilla wants to move away from the hand on her hip, the breath on her ear; but she cannot will her limbs to obey her.

 

Then the door creaks open again and Iago retracts his hand hastily.

 

“Ah, Iago,” Cassita greets warily as she enters the nursery. “I wasn’t aware you were here with the princesses.”

 

“Just checking up on the dears,” Iago answers breezily. “I’ll be heading out now.”

 

Iago leaves, slithering out of the nursery. Even after he leaves, Camilla can still feel the weight of Iago’s hand on her hip, burning like a brand.

 

~

 

It is the eve of Xander’s coming of age ball. As crown prince of Nohr, Xander’s eighteenth birthday is a National celebration. Father has thrown Xander the traditional ball for crown princes or princesses to celebrate surviving to adulthood.

 

Xander looks radiant in his formal robes, a perfect prince charming the nobility and visiting royals alike. Camilla is proud and happy for her brother; her love for her siblings strong despite her late mother’s best efforts. Camilla’s governess clears her throat, making a subtle gesture for Camilla to engage herself with the various important and influential figures around her. So much for enjoying the evening, Camilla thinks as she flits towards the dance floor to hopefully catch her brother for a dance or two.

 

Camilla manages to steal a dance with Xander as well as a quick one with Archduke-to-be, Izana. Izana is a special one, noble but with all the personality and charm that the royal courts drain out of most. Most importantly, father had even spared Camilla and Xander a few words and even a rarer smile when he had seen them. Happy and flushed, Camilla makes her way back to her governess to request that she may dismissed for the night.

 

“Ah, Princess Camilla.”

 

Camilla’s blood runs cold; she knows that voice. Camilla looks around and sure enough Iago is there beside her. But before she can excuse herself and run away, her governess is behind her.

 

“Ah, Iago,” the old bat greets. “How pleasant to see you. Doesn’t our dearest Camilla look well?”

 

“Why yes,” Iago agrees smiling that terrible smile of his. He grabs Camilla’s hand and presses a kiss to the back of her hand. “Why I dare say that she is in danger of stealing the spotlight from Xander on his special day.”

 

The governess laughs, practiced and airy. The two exchange pleasantries while Camilla frantically scans her surroundings for any possible escape.

 

“In fact,” Iago croons at Camilla, catching her attention, “would you honour me with this dance.” He offers the princess a pale and slender hand.

 

“Actually I’m-”

 

“She’d love to,” the old governess cuts Camilla off, pushing her towards Iago while shooting a sharp glare out of the corner of her eyes.

 

The dance is a waltz, and Camilla feels stiff and mechanical as Iago leads her to the dance floor. The dance starts out innocently enough, but soon enough Camilla feels Iago’s hand creep from her hip to her lower back before lowering even further to cup her rear. Camilla continues to move with the music and Iago, but inside she has frozen. Camilla feels like a prisoner in her own flesh, still in her body, able to feel every horrible sensation, but completely unable to will her limbs to move, to flee. Camilla notes with hyper awareness, feeling of Iago groping her rear, hand squeezing before moving down to squeeze her upper inner thighs. The horrible man continues to molest Camilla while tugging her around the dance floor.

 

By the time the song ends, Iago kisses the back of her hand again and bows. Camilla knows she is supposed to bow back, smile, and float away graciously; instead, she yanks her hand out of Iago’s grasp and flees the ballroom. Later, her governess will yell at her, rant and rave about how her behavior is unfit for the Nohrian court, shriek about how she is a shame to her father, and Camilla will sit there and take it, shame and fear holding her tongue.    

 

~

 

King Garon is taking evening tea with his children when Iago slithers into the dining room, carrying a tray of tea.

 

“The little maid sprained her ankle today,” Iago explains, voice oozing with false cheer, “so I volunteered to brew and serve tonight’s tea.”

 

“We have other servants,” Garon harrumphs. “You needn’t take up such menial tasks below your station.”

 

“Oh,” Iago showboats, “serving the King and his children is hardly a menial task below my station. It’s an honour to serve the royal family in any way I can.”

 

Garon harrumphs again, but he takes the tea in the cup Iago hands him. Iago serves Xander, Leo, and a cup of juice for little Elise, before offering a cup of tea to Camilla. Every nerve in Camilla’s body has been screaming for her to flee since Iago wormed his way into the dining room, but she cannot risk her father’s wrath.

 

“I’m not thirsty thank you,” Camilla tries to refuse politely.

 

“I insist,” Iago pushes.

 

“Really, I’m fine.”

 

“Oh but it’s your favourite princess, and I brewed it especially for you,” Iago offers, voice pleading and oh-so-unsettling.

 

“No thank y-”

 

“Camilla!” King Garon roars, slamming his fist onto the table. Everyone freezes. “Take that tea this instant you ungrateful brat.”

 

Hastily, Camilla takes the tea and drinks it, tears burning in her eyes. The tea tastes a little off, but she says nothing of it and drinks every last drop. Iago looks on with a satisfied rictus of grin as the princess drinks every last drop before excusing himself.

 

The rest of the tea time passes in a hazy blur to Camilla; she feels hot, feverish, and lightheaded. Camilla barely manages to stumble into her room after tea. Camilla is confused, dizzy, and as she fumbles with changing into her nightgown.

 

“Need some help with that Princess?”

 

Startled, Camilla jumps then falls onto her bed, nightgown dropped onto the floor as she sprawls onto the sheets in nothing but her underwear.

 

“Who’s there?” Camilla groans, limbs weak and unresponsive. To her horror, Iago emerges from the shadows behind her plush curtains. She wants so badly to run, to scream for help, but yet again her body betrays her. The most Camilla can do is flail on her bed, limbs like lead and throat unable to produce anything beyond the mousiest of squeaks. Iago laughs as he begins to disrobe.

 

“It’s a powerful little hex isn’t it?”

 

Camilla can’t even move anymore. Tears run furiously down the young princesses face as she looks on in horror.

 

“But don’t worry my dear,” Iago coos, fully naked and crawling over top of Camilla. “I’ll make sure you enjoy it.”

 

Then the monster, no longer a man, covers Camilla mouth with his own. The foul flavor of Iago overwhelms Camilla with dread and nausea as the man forces her his tongue into her mouth. Praying to every deity she’s ever heard of, Camilla cries, helpless, as Iago bites and licks a trail down to her chest. As the monster violates her further, nipping and suckling on her chest, Camilla tries to go anywhere but here. She desperately closes her eyes, trying to dissociate until Iago forces her to open them again.

 

“Oh my little dear,” Iago grins as he pries her thighs apart. The monster rips her underwear off, throwing them into a random corner. “A virgin now are we? Don’t worry, I’ll make it good.”

 

Oh gods, nonononono, please no, Camilla prays. But either the gods are not listening or they do not exist as Iago lines himself up with her virgin entrance. Camilla tries so badly to shriek as Iago pushes in; it hurts, it burns so badly, and Camilla can feel herself tear and bleed. Iago groans, deep in his throat as he begins to thrust. The pain intensifies, and Camilla is certain that she is dying. Wanting it so badly to be over, Camilla closes her eyes and tries her best to block everything out, but Iago grunts into the crook of her neck as her humps her limp body and she can feel everything. She can feel his breath on her skin, his hands all over her body, his sweat dripping onto her. Finally, Iago stills, grunting and moaning as finishes inside of Camilla. As Iago pulls out, he reaches in between Camilla’s thighs. Iago fishes up some of his cum, laced with blood, and runs it through Camilla’s bangs, milky white with streaks of red covering the rich lavender locks.

 

“Absolutely beautiful.”

 

Afterwards, Iago dresses Camilla, still ragdoll limp and tears endlessly running down her cheeks, in her nightgown. He tucks her into her bed before pressing a kiss on the princess’s forehead, a perversion of a loving goodnight kiss.

 

“Goodnight my princess,” Iago whispers as he reaches the door. “Let’s keep this our little secret my princess; wouldn’t want daddy to know what a little slut we are. After all, we wouldn’t want anything to happen to our precious little sister Elise now would we?”

 

As Iago leaves, the door shuts with a final click, and Camilla passes out from a mixture of shock, pain, and terror.

 

~

 

The morning after her rape, Camilla wakes up to a sharp ache between her legs. For a blissful few moments, she is confused, unsure of what happened. But those moments end abruptly and she remembers exactly what happened last night. Sickened, Camilla barely manages to lean over the bed before she vomits. Sobbing and shaking, Camilla rolls out of bed and collapses, legs weak and in too much pain to hold her weight. The covers are ripped off the bed revealing bloodstained sheets. It takes a few tries, but Camilla manages to stand on quivering legs. She manages to peel the sheets off her bed, uses them to clean the vomit from her floor before tossing it all into the fireplace and lighting it ablaze.

 

Camilla stumbles into the baths and runs the water as hot as she can take it. Camilla scrubs her skin raw, blood blooming on the damaged tissue and dyeing the water around her red, but she cannot feel clean, cannot scrub away the feeling of Iago laying his hands and lips on her skin.

 

~

 

Over the next months, whatever madness that has festered in father infects Iago as well. The monster of a man becomes driven, almost possessed to further Garon’s war efforts. Mercifully, the war consumes all of Iago’s passion and attention, and Camilla is finally free from the monster’s attention. But the memory of her rape stays with her. Camilla wakes up screaming with nightmares, jolts in the hallways whenever anyone passes by her unexpectedly. It takes months for the dread, horror, and disgust to fade from Camilla’s mind. However, in its place grows and festers a deep rage and hatred. One day Iago will pay, and it is this thought that pushes Camilla to train harder and harder with her axe and her tomes, pushing herself to the breaking point of her endurance, strength, and skill.

 

~

 

Years later Camilla comes face to face with the monster again. On the edge of the Bottomless Canyon, Camilla barely manages to steer Marzia away from a mage’s thunder. Corrin is behind her, slicing a Berseker clean in half with the Yato while Xander and Leo work with the Hoshido royal family to cut down a legion of dark knights.

 

Adrenaline rushing through her blood, blood pounding against her eardrums, Camilla zones in on the wretched laughter of Iago. Whipping her head around, Camilla can see the monster on top of a small fortress, clutching a tome and a stave in opposite hands. I’m not afraid of you any longer, Camilla thinks. Burning with rage and hatred, Camilla gives a sharp yank to Marzia’s reins, forcing the wyvern to charge straight at Iago.

 

“Why Camilla,” Iago shrieks with deranged laughter. “It will be my absolute pleasure to end your miserable life myself!”

 

“The only one dying today will be you, you miserable wretch!” Camilla bellows back.

 

Camilla is vaguely aware of the worried cries of Xander and Elise in the background, but she ignores them. Iago manages to hit her with a quick fimbulvetr, but Camilla grunts in pain and pushes through. Camilla swoops in with Marzia, trying to get a hit with a killer axe, but she misses. Iago screeches a terrible laugh, preparing to finish Camilla off with another fimbulvetr. Suddenly a javelin flies out from nowhere, knocking the tome out of Iago’s hand. Xander, it had to be Xander, Camilla thinks as she takes the opportunity to swoop in again, swiping with the killer axe. Iago screams, in terror this time, raising his stave in an attempt to protect himself. The killer axe snaps the stave in two. Iago falls to his knees, cowering and shaking. Fueled by adrelaine and hatred, Camilla dismounts Marzia. She tosses the killer axe to the side, fishing out a Ragnarok tome.

 

“Well it looks like the tables have turned Iago,” Camilla snarls. She grabs his face in her hand, gripping it in her hands as hard as she can, feeling the magic crackle to life under the palm.

 

“Please,” Iago sobs, begging. “Mercy! King Garon! Anankos! Help me!”

 

“Burn in hell you bastard,” Camilla spits, unleashing Ragnarok. Iago screams as the fire magic blasts his mask and part of his face off. The magical flames engulf his body, working their way from the head down.

 

Camilla watches, emotionless, as Iago writhes on the ground, screaming and shrieking in pain as he burns to death. Once the body stops twitching and the flames burn out, Camilla walks up to the charred mess that was once a man. Lifting her boot, Camilla kicks the shell of the monster off the fortress; the body hits the ground with a dull thud.  

 

“You go to hell,” Camilla whispers. Walking out of the fortress, Camilla meets Xander’s horrified stare.

 

“That was rather cruel,” Xander states. “Even by your standards Camilla.”

 

“He deserved worse,” Camilla answers simply. Far worse she thinks, but Xander didn’t need to know that.

 

“Well what’s done is done,” Xander sighs. “Come now, let us regroup with Corrin.”

 

“Yes,” Camilla agrees. “It’s over now. It’s finally over now.”

_~_

**Author's Note:**

> I found this kicking around my computer, and I thought I'd post it here.


End file.
